


Allowed to be soft

by bennysparks



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: M/M, Soft Boys, drunk boys, shouting from other rooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-14 22:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20608148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennysparks/pseuds/bennysparks
Summary: Callum's text is short, says he's finished covering the bar at the Queen Vic and wondering where Ben and Jay are. Another text pops up, asking if Ben wants him to join them or if it's brother time.





	1. Chapter 1

"Anyway, Mrs. Barnett is waiting and waiting and waiting," Jay is saying, clutching a half-empty beer bottle like it's a life preserver. They're in his and Billy's flat, and Ben is struggling to stay focused on what his brother is saying. "So finally, I go _ looking _ for him, and there's Halfway in the basement, covered in Mr. Barnett's ashes."

Ben can't stop himself from burping when he laughs, hand pressed to his stomach. "Jesus," he says. The room is swimming, but he's very carefully left _ his _ half-empty beer on the table, along with all the many, many empties. "How did Mrs. Barnett take it?"

"You are very lucky that I am such a charming sweet-talker, Ben Mitchell, otherwise your beloved Halfway would be No-way."

Ben lets out a shaky laugh. In his pocket, his phone chimes. "That'll be him now." Ben straightens himself up, blinking slowly while he digs it out. "Fucking hell, Jay, I haven't been this drunk in—in—"

"At least a month," Jay says. "I've noticed."

"You really _ are _ a boy detective, ain't cha?"

"Oh, don't get yourself into such a lather." Jay tilts his head back, drinking the rest of his beer. "It's good to see you all loved up."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ben says. Callum's text is short, says he's finished covering the bar at the Queen Vic and wondering where Ben and Jay are. Another text pops up, asking if Ben wants him to join them or if it's _ brother time. _ Callum is always so tentative—half the time it drives him spare. Tonight it just makes him wants to give in to his soppiest impulses. "I'm telling him to come here," he says.

"Oh good." Jay starts giggling, or hiccuping, or both. "After a night of kicking punters out of the Vic, he can drag your ass home."

"I can walk just fine."

"Like to see you try."

Ben contemplates standing up but decides against it because he's drunk and tired and what's the point of having a giant of a boyfriend if he doesn't carry you around once in a while? "He figures you worked out we were a thing before our little coming out tour."

"You ain't exactly _ subtle, _ bruv."

Ben will give Jay that. He ain't subtle. He knows he ain't subtle. _ Everybody _ knows that Ben Mitchell ain't subtle. "It's doing his head in, Jay."

"Your boyfriend is a real suck—don't, I already know the awful joke you're going to come out with—no, no, no." Jay burps, and flings the empty bottle onto the floor, listening to it thump and roll over the carpet. "Only thing that gave your boy away was _ your _ impeccable gaydar, bruv. I've never seen you go after a straight guy like that."

"I wasn't _ going after _him! He had a girlfriend."

"Didn't you literally hook up with him in the park before he proposed to her?"

"Okay, fine, fair point." Ben lets his head roll back. "Anyway, I'm not getting on _ your _ case about Lola, am I?"

"That's different and you know it. Anyway, you've been _ getting on my case _ about her since the two of you showed up in town again with Lexi. Don't think I ain't noticed. Ain't the same thing."

"Are you saying you were on Team Whitney and not Team Ben?"

"I am very firmly on Team Callum Getting His Head Screwed On Right, Finally."

Ben snorts. He checks his phone again; two more texts from Callum, saying he's on his way and that he _ misses _ Ben.

"He's actually been kind of unbearable lately," Jay says. "Always walking around _ humming. _ I'm thinking about getting earplugs. And he was enough of a daydreamer _ before _ he hooked up with you. I keep expecting him to fall down the stairs at some point."

"Please do not let my boyfriend die at the funeral home."

"And he keeps asking me questions," Jay says, giving no indication that he's even listening to Ben anymore. His hands are up, in the middle of a rant. "Because I was around when you came out. At first it was all feelings stuff, and endless hand-wringing about Whitney like she doesn't have a whole queue of terrible romantic decisions behind her, but sometimes he brings up sex."

Ben squints. "Do what?"

"Apparently, outside of his _ boyfriend, _ I am Callum Highway's go-to for sex advice. I can only imagine what would have happened if he asked Mick about it. Or, jesus, can you imagine him trying to talk to _ Stuart _ about S-E-X?"

Ben twists around on the couch to stare at Jay. The redhead is sprawling with a leg up on the armrest, his eyes closed. "You are like the last person I would think to ask for sex advice—"

"Hey, I'm quite the lover."

"He could also actually talk to _ me _."

Jay opens his eyes. "Honestly, I think he's just too embarrassed to ask you."

"Embarrassed?"

"No, no, no," Jay says. "I can see the little wheels turning in there. When he gets here you are going to resist your natural impulse to wind him up, ok? He isn't as experienced as you are and you know that and he ain't got no gay friends to help him through this _ except _ you."

Ben covers his face with his hands. "Fuck," he says. The sex has been good—great, even—because it's with Callum and he is starting to become more comfortable making the first move. Even when he has a clumsy spell in the middle of it, it's still Callum and he's fit and they can laugh about it and—"Please tell me I haven't given him a complex."

"We cannot all be as sure of ourselves as the mighty Ben Mitchell."

Before Ben can say anything, there is a knock at the front door. "I'll get it."

"Do you need help up?"

"Oh shut up," Ben says, hoisting himself up onto his feet. "I'm starting to sober up."

But then his trip to the door—winding around the narrow space between the coffee table and the couch, threading his way between discarded empties—turns out to be more treacherous than expected. "Jesus, this place is a sty. You and Billy need to clean up!"

"You are not my mother," calls Jay, "An' half of these are yours!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ben says. He yanks the door open and finds Callum stooping on the other side. Callum looks around—Callum _ always _ looks around when he wants to kiss Ben outside, like his absolute shit of a father is going to emerge from the shadows—but Ben holds a hand and turns his head before releasing a thunderous burp.

"Charming," Callum says.

"Well _ excuse me _ for not wanting to burp in your mouth."

From the other room, Jay calls out: "Do _ not _ have a go at him, Ben Mitchell."

Callum snorts and says, "Hello, Jay!"

"Hello, Halfway!"

"Oh my god, the pair of you," Ben groans. "And I am not having a go at him! This is harassment, Jay." He turns back to Callum, "Unless _ you _ want me to have a go at you?"

Callum rolls his eyes, "Maybe I should make you two a brew." He shuffles past Ben, running a hand through the shorter man's hair before reaching down to grasp his hand and pull him along after. Ben kicks the door shut before trailing after his boyfriend, who looks _ exhausted, _ probably from being on his feet for the last few hours. Callum looks back and smiles, sleepily. 

"Okay," Ben says. "But you're making out with me while the water boils."

"I'm still awake," Jay says. "I can still hear you!"

"Oh, relax!"

"I'm not listening to you _ defile _ my employee in my kitchen."

"I'm not going to defile him!" Ben leans against the kitchen counter while Callum fills the kettle with water and hunts down chamomile tea bags in Jay's cupboards, depositing them in a pair of mugs. Ben closes his eyes and listens to Callum putter, moving cautiously around the kitchen. When he opens his eyes again, Callum is right in front of him, smirking. Callum is not, as a rule, the one who smirks in the relationship. "I feel like I'm a bad influence on you."

"You said you wanted to make out." 

"I am overwhelmed, Callum," Ben says, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. "I am overcome!"

"Okay, we are getting a brew into you and then getting you home." Callum ghosts his hand over Ben's side but turns slightly, toward the door. "Jay? You've been quiet—you alive in there?"

"Oh sure, worry about him."

"Ben."

"You know—you know you can talk to me, right? About—about stuff. If you're worried about—"

"Stuff?" Callum raises an eyebrow. "I think I'm good for the moment." He gingerly pulls until Ben slumps forward, Callum's chin pressed to the crown of Ben's head. They stand like that for a minute, Callum reaching up to play with the hair on the back of Ben's neck. Ben smiles; tonight, Ben is allowed to be soft. "I'm really looking forward to crawling into bed with you, okay? But right now I'm mostly worried about Jay."

There is a voice from the other room: "Well, Jay's mostly worried that you're _ defiling _ his kitchen!"

"Okay, you two are going to need a drinking chaperone from now on."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just for the record—Jay Brown does not know how to please a man."

The thing about Ben Mitchell is that Callum is always,  _ always _ racing to catch up. Maybe that shouldn't be a surprise—if it wasn't for poor impulse control, Ben would have  _ no  _ impulse control—but you would think that longer legs and sobriety would give Callum more of an edge right this moment.

He's supposed to be getting Ben home and into bed after Ben's long night of drinking with Jay. 

"I'm just saying," Ben singsongs, half a block in front of Callum, "I'm just saying that you can talk to me. I was not always this god, this legend, this marvel of the modern age that you see before you now."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Callum calls back. He's trying to keep his voice down before someone kicks off but there is a certain amount of  _ go-with-the-flow _ that goes hand in hand with being Ben Mitchell's boyfriend. 

"Sex!" Ben swings around, almost looks like he's miming a dance sequence out of  _ Singing in the Rain. _ Ben made him watch that the other night, cuddling up against Callum and sniping at him for chewing the popcorn too loudly. Ben throws his hands wide. "I'm talking about sex!"

A few weeks ago, Ben shouting the word  _ sex _ in the middle of the Square after dark would have sent Callum diving behind a bench or trash can or parked car. Luckily he's been building up a bit of a tolerance. "I'm really more of a doing-it-indoors sort, Ben, you know that."

"For the record," Ben says, stumbling back toward him. "Just for the record—Jay Brown does  _ not _ know how to please a man."

"I mean, I think Lola's probably happy about that?"

"He tried to teach me how to flirt, this one time," Ben says. He's still talking loud but he's right in front of Callum, gripping his forearms out of some deep-seated, drunken exasperation. Callum can't stop himself from smiling. After a night of covering at the Vic for Linda and Mick—which involved him breaking up three fistfights, accidentally knocking over twenty glasses and getting yelled at by Shirley three or four times—he was looking forward to drunken Ben. When Ben gets pissed these days, it  _ almost _ never ends with a fist smashing in his face anymore. "He's going on about my  _ glasses _ and I'm trying to keep a straight face—"

"I mean," Callum says. He can't stop himself from blushing. "You do look  _ really _ hot in your glasses."

"See?  _ See? _ You know how to flirt with a man way more than that—that—" Ben gestures wildly. "What I'm saying is, you shouldn't have to go to  _ him _ for advice if you're worried about…"

"What?" It takes him a second to piece together what, exactly Ben is talking about, and that's when Callum freezes. "Ben," he says, to make sure that his boyfriend is paying attention to him. He suddenly feels too exposed. "We should get you home." He pushes lightly on Ben with his forearms, steps forward until Ben steps backward, the pair of them improvising a drunken box step.

"Callum…"

"I am going to bring a bloody drum kit to work tomorrow," he says. "See how Jay's hangover likes that."

Ben snorts. 

"I'm not—you're more experienced than I am," he says. "Even  _ Whitney _ was more experienced than I am." He doesn't look at Ben's face when he brings her up. "I wasn't, like, I wasn't asking Jay how to—how to  _ do it _ or whatever." Ben stops again, locking his legs. "Ben," he says. He cups his face and kisses him, ignoring the stink of beer and biryani. "It was a lot, okay? You were more experienced, and at first I thought you might tease me about—I mean, you tease me about everything."

"I don't mean it in a mean way!"

"I know," Callum says, firmly. "And you're a lot better about it. And I'm—I'm a lot better about it. Dislodged the stick from my arse and all of that—"

"Well, let's not be  _ so _ hasty about having something up there!"

"Yeah, all right," Callum says. He's smiling. "See? I even set that one up for you."

Ben shifts his weight around and it's like Callum is the streetlamp now, Ben swinging around him. Callum lets it happen. "You were a terrible straight man," Ben says, but they both know he isn't being mean. "But now you're a really good one, if you know what I mean."

Callum says. "C'mon, Captain Vaudeville. Let's get you indoors."

"You  _ do _ like doing it indoors."

Callum slings an arm around Ben's waist and turns to kiss the side of his head. "Yes. I do."


End file.
